


I Guess, When You're in Love

by Itsthecolorsyouhave



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Depression, Fighting, M/M, Reddie, bullshit, first fic, this was actually going to be way more sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 13:12:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13365420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsthecolorsyouhave/pseuds/Itsthecolorsyouhave
Summary: Eddie is tired of trying and tired of bull shit. So is Richie.





	I Guess, When You're in Love

Eddie Kaspbrak laid in bed and stared at the spider web in the corner of the ceiling, wondering how long it had been there. His room — their room — was filthy. Clothes scattered the floor and a pizza box sat halfway underneath the bed in a poor show of concealment. There were empty beer bottles everywhere.  
_When had those gotten there?_  
Eddie turned his head and stared at the broken lamp on his bedside table. A new addition to the mess. Smears of red paint stained the white walls of the bedroom.  
_Fucking deposit._  
Richie liked to throw things when he got upset. It was a part of his volatile nature. The paint set Eddie had gotten him for Christmas two months ago was his ammunition. Eddie didn’t care. He couldn’t anymore. He sat up in the bed and listened to the steady thrum water from the next room. Richie always took long showers. He briefly considered joining him. Opening the curtain, and letting Richie see the bruises he had sucked into his skin the night before. They didn’t make love, hadn’t in months. But Richie came home smelling like liquor. He kissed him hard on the mouth and began moving lower. His cheek, his jaw, his neck. Then Eddie had had enough. He pushed him away with the strength of a man much larger than himself, seething.  
“Get the fuck off me.”  
The taller man stood, shocked (for once) into silence.  
“You’re not going to fucking use me like that. I won’t let you. You can’t fucking treat people like that, Richie, one minute you ice me out and the next you try to get in my pants? Fuck you, no. I’m not doing it.”  
Maybe he had overreacted. Maybe. But it’s what Richie deserved. After all the shit he had been putting him through.  
The last time Eddie came home from work tired and desperate and clingy he had been met with an equally cold demeanor. It had been a long day. Gone we’re the days of driving the streets of Manhattan, carting around celebrities and wealthy businessmen with beautiful wives and even more beautiful girlfriends. Now he sat behind a desk. Invoices, appointments, and cost reports, oh my!  
_Ain’t it good to be boss._  
Eddie had stepped out for his lunch break and that’s when he saw Bill Denbrough... with Stanley Uris. His old high school friends. He watched them and they looked happy. And they touched each other with gentle, searching hands. And when they kissed, Eddie had nearly vomited. He ran back towards his office and away from the happy couple. He felt something tight in his chest and his stomach churned and he reached for an inhaler that he hadn’t kept in his pocket for years. He sat back at his desk and caught his breath. When was the last time he and Richie had even gone out? When was the last time they looked at each other like they had hung the moon? When was the last time they were happy — when he was happy?? The thought sent waves of nausea coursing through his body and in his heart rose a determination to change this. Because he had to. There wasn’t another choice. He rushed home immediately only to find Richie, still in bed, asleep at 1 pm.  
“Rich... hey, Richie”  
He kissed his shoulder in an effort to wake him, sliding a hand around his torso and pulling him closer.  
“Why aren’t you at work, Ed’s?”  
“You know that song by the Starland Vocal Band?”  
“Fuck off, Eddie.”  
“C’mon, Chee. I love you and I miss you and I want you to kiss me like you love me, too.”  
“Take a fucking shower, Ed’s.”  
That day, Eddie drew a line in the dirt.  
_This side is mine and that side is yours. If you leave me alone maybe I’ll leave you alone and if we still fall asleep in the same bed every night then maybe we don’t have think about how our lives are falling apart._  
The water stopped, pulling Eddie from his thoughts.  
Soon, Richie would walk into the bedroom and he’d be wearing one of the masks he always wears. Maybe today he’ll be “Fun Richie” and he’ll laugh and play and use his voices and pretend that last night never happened. Or he’ll be “Romantic Richie” and he’ll be soft and apologetic and he’ll whisper promises into Eddies skin _I love you so much, Eddie, I do. Sometimes I love you so much it scares me._ Or maybe he’ll be the same Richie he has been for the past year. The one that wears a mask of indifference. Where he rests without sleeping. Eats without tasting. The one wear his smile never reaches his eyes.  
The door opens and Richie enters the room. Water is still dripping from his hair and rolling down his shoulders. He watches his feet as he walks to the dresser.  
_Look at me, you coward._  
He pulls on boxer shorts and throws his towel to the floor.  
“Eddie?”  
_Finally._  
“What do you want, Richie?”  
“I think... maybe... I should talk to somebody. I... I think I’m sick.”  
_Oh._  
“I’m sad all the time and I’m so fucking tired, Eddie. I’m tired of hurting myself and god, I’m so tired of hurting you. I don’t know who I am anymore. I really don’t. I hate that I push you away. I just can’t help myself Ed’s. I think I have this bullshit idea that if I keep you away from me then maybe you’ll leave and I won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”  
_Oh._  
Richie is crying now. Really crying. And suddenly every wall that Eddie had built comes crashing down hard and fast because this is Richie. The one who has been by his side since fifth grade when they were both the target of middle school bullies. The one that kissed him first when they were sixteen and too shy to admit their feelings. This is the Richie who asked him to dance in the middle of their new apartment when the sun was going down and no music was playing. Suddenly, Eddie realized he was crying, too. He pulled Richie into his chest and back down on the bed. Eddie kissed his hair and his neck and his hands held on to the other man so tightly he thought he might break.  
_I love him. God help me, I do._  
“We’ll get help, Richie.” He whispered. “We will. You’ll talk to somebody and then we’ll learn how to be happy again.”  
This was it. This was the start. Eddies life didn’t have to be broken lamps and red paint and spider webs. As he looked at the man in front of him, he realized it could be beautiful again. He realized that he could fall in love again. That he could be happy and in love, too.


End file.
